~Where History Meets Hope~
The library remained wrapped in its solemn quietude, a sanctuary of distant thoughts and preserved time.
Kel moved with deliberate calm between towering shelves, the hem of his deep blue coat whispering across the polished floor. His breathing was steady now, no longer labored from earlier training, though the ache lingered deep—quiet, constant, like a reminder written beneath his skin.
He stopped at a section marked by a bronze sigil: [Classical Aura Studies]
His hand hovered for a moment over the spine of a thick tome bound in forest green leather, worn at the corners from decades of scholarly touch.
Aura… an energy I cannot access, he thought. Not until the curse is lifted. But understanding it is necessary if I plan to reconstruct my foundation once the seal breaks.
He pulled the book from its shelf.
The weight surprised him slightly—denser than anticipated. His fingers gripped tighter to avoid dropping it. Fine. Heavier knowledge often carries heavier burdens.
He tucked the book under his arm.
Then another caught his eye—this one slimmer, inked in silver along its spine:
[The Flow of Core Channels]
– by Grandmaster Aure Thorne
Kel paused.
A guide on structural alignment before aura integration…
Even if he could not use aura, learning how to prepare his body for eventual flow would optimize his training. He lifted the second book gently.
Now holding two tomes, he turned to leave—
—but something at the edge of his vision halted his steps.
A book, wedged alone at the corner of an upper shelf. Its cover was deep obsidian, edges gilded faintly with starlight-like specks.
He frowned.
The section here was astronomy, not combat strategy.
Yet the book glowed—not in light, but in presence.
He stepped closer.
The title revealed itself as the morning sun shifted subtly, catching its surface.
[Genesis of the Star System: The First Awakened]
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
He reached out and took the book with careful hands.
The surface felt subtly warm—like someone had held it not long ago.
The Star Awakening System…
Of all topics, this one was ignored by most modern scholars. Understanding it held little tactical advantage—most people accepted it as tradition.
But Kel did not.
He knew the truth from the game.
Kel von Rosenfeld never awakened his star due to his curse.
I am that Kel now.
If I am to defy fate… I must understand what fate tried to hide.
He carried the book along with the others to a nearby study table beside a tall arched window. Light filtered softly through the frosted glass, illuminating swirls of dust motes dancing in the air like quiet constellations.
Kel placed the books down silently.
Then slowly took his seat.
His posture was disciplined, though the stiffness in his lower back betrayed pain. He reached into his coat pocket and removed a monochrome ribbon, retying his hair to prevent strands from falling into his eyes as he studied.
Black hair pulled back, pale face composed.
Brown eyes sharpened.
He opened the first book.
---
"Aura is the breath of will, forged into strength. It flows not from power, but from alignment between conviction and vessel."
Kel tapped the table gently.
Alignment…
He flipped pages.
"Without proper body conditioning, aura becomes poison to flesh."
His gaze darkened.
The curse prevents mana. Aura. Everything. So before I even consider these energies… I must strengthen the vessel first.
He exhaled quietly.
Day by day. Pain or not.
He glanced at his hand.
A tremor.
He clenched it softly until it steadied.
Even if the curse tries to break me reinforcing myself… then I will break it back.
He closed the aura book and set it aside—handling it with the respect of one temporarily setting down a weapon.
Then, he opened the obsidian-covered volume.
--
The pages were old, cream-colored with faded ink. Some lines bore additional annotations in a style that suggested intense study.
"Before there was power, there was sky.
Before there was destiny, there were stars.
The first to awaken did not seek strength—
They sought purpose."
Kel's eyes stilled.
Purpose…
He turned the page lightly, the sound almost reverent.
"The Star System reacts not to the body…"
"…but to the path one intends to walk."
Kel froze.
His chair creaked softly as he leaned closer.
Does that mean… the failure to awaken was not only curse-bound… but because the original Kel lost purpose?
His heartbeat steadied.
His eyes sharpened.
Then purpose… is my weapon.
He turned the page.
"To resonate with the stars, one must not fear the sky they reflect."
A quiet breath escaped him.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
"I see."
He leaned back slowly.
Pain crept up his spine, and his hand lightly brushed his side as if to hold it together.
But despite that—
His expression remained composed.
In the game, Kel died before he could dream.
I am not that Kel.
He gently closed the book, fingers resting atop it momentarily.
Then he whispered—
"…When the time comes, I will look up without fear."
A breeze crept through the window cracks.
The pages rustled softly.
Almost as if the library itself acknowledged his vow.
---
The rustling of the pages faded into silence.
Kel sat motionless, fingers lightly resting atop the closed obsidian book. The early sunlight creeping across the frost-glass window extended slowly toward him, gilding the edges of the desk in muted gold. It stopped just short of touching his hand.
As though even light hesitated.
Kel's gaze remained fixed on the table, not reading, not thinking—simply letting the realization settle.
"To resonate with the stars, one must not fear the sky they reflect."
He exhaled quietly.
Then the academy's awakening ritual is not only a test of potential… it is a confrontation with desire.
If I intend to stand before the stars… I must be ready to show them what I seek.
A moment passed.
He reached for the aura manual again, but halfway through the motion, his body tensed.
Not from pain.
From instinct.
Someone was nearby.
---
The sensation was faint—no footsteps, no sound, just a shift in the air density behind the shelves to his right.
Kel didn't turn.
His grip on the aura book did not tighten.
His shoulders did not stiffen.
Only his eyes lowered slightly.
Someone observing. Hiding… but not hostile. A servant? Or someone deliberately subtle?
He let his breaths return to steady.
If the observer wished to remain unseen, he would not reveal he had noticed.
He returned to reading instead.
--
Kel opened The Flow of Core Channels, skimming pages until he found a diagram of the body's main mana veins. Though his curse sealed energy, understanding where the flow would eventually pass was crucial.
He traced the diagram's lines using a fingertip.
Collarbone, chest, spine, lower abdomen.
His finger paused at the sternum.
This is where the curse feels most present.
He remembered nights of tightness, pressure, cold burning.
If the curse is rooted here… I will need a cleansing method that does not rely on energy I cannot use.
He leaned back slightly.
Meaning: medical treatment. Alchemy. And… body templating before channel activation.
That would require years.
He blinked once.
Then his expression sharpened.
*I have years.*
---
He reopened the obsidian volume, turning deeper into the chapter.
"When the First Awakened stood beneath the sky, they did not ask for power."
"They asked to understand what they must become."
"The star that answers is not the strongest."
"It is the one that recognizes the path."
Kel paused.
So even if my body is broken… as long as my path is certain—my star will answer.
A faint pulse of pain ran through his chest.
He curled a finger against the edge of the table subtly.
Then the question is not whether I survive to fifteen…
His eyes lowered.
But whether I am someone worthy of being answered.
He shut the book delicately.
---
He reached for his teacup, now lukewarm. He lifted it with slow precision, the faint tremor still visible in his right hand.
Not weakness. Feedback.
He sipped.
A soft sound of cloth shifted against wood from somewhere past the second row of shelves.
Too light to notice unless one was listening.
Kel placed the cup down soundlessly.
They haven't left.
I'll ignore them.
He stacked the books he had chosen and stood.
His movements were calm, unhurried.
But his breaths shortened.
The morning air felt colder against his skin.
---
He closed each book gently and carried them in a neat stack. The coat he wore earlier brushed faintly against the edge of the oak desk as he turned.
Sunlight now fully stretched across the floor, outlining his figure in pale illumination.
Kel paused.
Do not overtrain today. Pain means limit. You reached it already.
He chose to leave.
Yet as he walked toward the exit—
The sensation of being observed followed like a shadow.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a faint flicker of movement behind a shelf.
A figure.
He did not turn.
Not now. Not yet.
He raised his head and continued walking, flawless posture, expression composed.
As he neared the doors, he whispered internally—
If someone is interested… let them approach at their own pace.
I will not show concern.
He pushed the door open.
A faint breeze met him.
He walked out.
And behind him, deep within the shelves—
A cloaked figure watched.
Eyes narrowed slightly in interest.
"The cursed heir… has changed."